The funk breaks.
After a few shitty weeks, I had developed an ENORMOUS China funk. George Clinton sized funk. A stinky, foggy, impenetrable funk that threatened to destroy my mood the way the air is destroying my lungs, looks and eyes.
Anyway, stemming out of this funk was a terrible feeling that any creative industry type person knows: writers/designers/creative block. That little voice that starts off softly saying ‘Not sure about this’, but before you know it is bellowing ‘YOU CAN’T DO IT. YOU’RE A FRAUD AND EVERYONE’S GOING TO FIND OUT. FAIL.’
I had a project sitting on the back of my brain, begging for a solution, but everytime I looked at it, I gave up. I knew I had a solution - I had all these disparate parts but no central connection - but I just couldn’t crack it. This is the worst feeling in the world…it makes you question your whole career. It’s worse when you’re in China, and in a bad mood at being overworked.
But last night, 12 hours before the deadline, I finally got it, funnily enough while riding my bike home in the cold night air.
There is no better feeling. I was literally punching my fist in the air like I’d won le Tour. You have to enjoy the little things.